


Decorating

by Merixcil



Series: Advent Fics 2017 [19]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Constantine: The Hellblazer (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: John gives strange Christmas gifts
Relationships: John Constantine/Bruce Wayne
Series: Advent Fics 2017 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767640
Kudos: 16





	Decorating

Bruce is moving tinsel aside in the den, trying to get to his father’s old whiskey cupboard so that he might make a show of breaking out the good stuff for Phillips, a long running business associate who desperately needs to believe that he’s embracing his status as a Good Old Boy in order to retain his interests in Wayne Enterprises. The irony here is that Wayne Enterprises doesn’t need the extra money, but it never hurts to cultivate allies earlier than you need them.

“What have you got for us, Brucie?” Phillips asks with what must be intended as a good natured chuckle but sounds performative.

Bruce winces internally and doesn’t call him out on the use of the diminutive. “Bottle of ’74 Glenmorangie Pride. Scottish import. It’s-“

He’s cut off by the shock of lifting aside the fronds of tinsel to reach the cupboard and seeing a row of sigils picked out in plastic hanging from the underbelly. Bruce frowns.

“You alright there?” Philips calls across the room.

Bruce shakes himself out of his temporary stupor and puts himself back together. “Sure am. After a glass of this though, we’re both going to be on cloud nine.” 

It happens again on the way back from a pre-Christmas theatre trip that had been better received by some members of the family than others. Cassie and Damian love Shakespeare and Tim loves set design but the others are harder to convince. Bruce should probably point out to Alfred that long monologues on the great wisdom of The Bard don’t do much to endear the already sceptical members of the family to Shakespeare’s works but it’s hard to get a word in edge-ways when he’s on a role.

For the first time, John accompanied them for the evening, which is perhaps a bigger deal than he realises. Going to the theatre at Christmas is a Bat family tradition and considering that Bruce still hasn’t worked up the courage to formally introduce John as his boyfriend to his known associates it was quite a bold move. Safe to say, if they hadn’t worked out what was going on between the two of them before hand, John showing up that night in his least tatty suit should have been the final giveaway.

“It’s weird hearing folk do Shakespeare in American accents.” John grumbles.

“Here, here!” Alfred agrees from up the other end of the limo. “It gets easier as the years go by but I’ll never fully adapt.”

They pull up to the manor and everyone piles out of the car. Bruce hangs back to pay the driver and by the time he makes it to the front door there’s a wreath hanging over it that he swears he doesn’t remember being there before. It’s full of upside down horseshoes, runes scratched on small blocks of wood and, most confusingly, a chilli.

“I have no idea where it came from.” Alfred mutters at his shoulder. “I’ll get rid of it, if you like.”

Bruce looks round and sees John surreptitiously slipping Damian sweets while he flirts with Dick (everyone flirts with Dick), looking out of place and totally at home simultaneously, and allows himself a small smile. “It can stay.”

Two days later, Bruce comes downstairs to find John and Alfred hard at work at the Christmas tree in the main hall of the manor. He looks at the two of them, confused. “I thought the tree was done.”

Alfred nods. “It was, but J- Ahem, excuse me. Master Constantine pointed out that the colour scheme was at odds with the rest of the manor.”

John looks up, grubby white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a row of baubles hanging precariously from his mouth. He sends Bruce a small salute and turns back to the tree.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Bruce confesses. He’s found no fewer than ten strings of tinsel around the house with sigils imprinted on them and a second wreath has appeared by the back door through the kitchens but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what colour they all were.

“Everything else is in bronze and gold. The tree was done up in red and silver.” Alfred explains.

Wandering around the tree towards John, Bruce can see a large pile of red and silver decorations tucked round the back. When he reaches his boyfriend he crouches down to get a better look at what he’s doing.

John passes him a bauble without having to be asked. Bruce turns it over and finds words in a language too ancient for him to understand scrawled on the back.

Bruce frowns. “What does this mean?”

“It’s all part of a spell.” John explains, once he’s spat the other baubles out well enough to speak clearly. “The tinsel, the wreathes, the thing in the attic. Think of it as my Christmas present to the man who has everything.”

Bruce must remember to check the attic sometime. Knowing that he’s dealing with a spell doesn’t explain much though. Most spells are inherently terrible in his experience and the ones that aren’t are either cast by Zatana or require some great sacrifice to work properly. “I see…a spell for what?”

“Don’t look so worried,” John grins, slipping a bauble onto an outstretched frond. “This is an easy spell. I’ve just gotta get everything in place before the winter equinox and I should have this whole building sealed up tight from demons for the next five years.”

That’s a pretty useful spell. Bruce lays a hand on John’s back and leans in to kiss him quickly on the cheek. He’s somewhat relieved to see that Alfred is doing a great job of pretending he’s not looking when he pulls back.

“Everything shipshape, master Bruce?” Alfred calls.

Bruce rises to his feet and starts crossing the hall towards the west wing so he can slip down to the kitchens and get himself some coffee. “Everything’s fine. We might need to get John back to help with the decorating next year.”

“I was under the impression he was about to become a more permanent fixture of the manor.”

John laughs loud enough to startle Bruce at how clear it echoes off the clean floors of the hall. “You just might be fright about that, Alfie.”

To Bruce’s eternal shock, Alfred doesn’t so much as flinch at the nickname.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted as part of a multi chaptered 'advent fics' fic that I'm trying to split up. If you think you've read it before, you probably have
> 
> Comments on the previous posting of this fic (just ask if you want me to remove yours) include:
> 
> >melody1987: Ahhhh fuck it this ship needs more art! Might as well pick a scene from this for it :D  
> >>Merixcil: Mel if you were to draw ConstantBat art the ship fandom would triple in size overnight
> 
> >altbaie: Aw yes! Constantine & Bruce!! It's not Yuletide anymore by thank you for this gift!  
> >>Merixcil: It may not be Yuletide but it's never too late to leave a comment! ;) Fab to hear you enjoyed this!
> 
> >DiscoVampire: This was lovely. I love his ship  
> >>Merixcil: Thank you!!


End file.
